In Which Conner is Meddlesome for Tim's Own Good
by GeneratorCat
Summary: "Homecoming dance!" it proclaimed. "Saturday, Oct. 24th" And then, at the bottom some bastard had written, "Do you have your date yet?" Tim wanted to scream because no, he didn't have his date yet, and he probably never would. He was too scared to ask them. JayTim.
A banner hung across the main atrium of the school. It was a gaudy thing, too bright and almost illegible with how frilly the words had been written. It was hard to miss. Every time Tim walked through the main doors it reminded him, and he hated it.

 _"Homecoming dance!"_ it proclaimed. _"Saturday, Oct. 24th"_. And then, at the bottom some bastard had written, "Do _you_ have _your_ date yet?"

Tim wanted to scream because no, he didn't have his date yet, and he probably never would. He was too scared to ask them.

He could just go with Stephanie. Should, really. Everyone thought they were dating anyway, and it would be a far less scandalous choice. He considered asking Cassie, but Conner was going to so he wouldn't dare. And he didn't _want_ to go to the dance with Steph or Cass. He wanted to go with Jason.

Jason Todd, tight end for the football team, one of the most popular guys in school, and star of Tim's pathetic dreams.

"You don't actually have laser vision, you know." Conner sidled up next to Tim, nudging him with his backpack, but Conner was freakishly strong so it was more like a shove and Tim went flying into a passing student. Stupid football players and their stupid muscles. Although, Tim didn't always take issue to that. Like on Jason… Ignoring the altercation he just caused, Conner said, "You keep staring at that banner like you want to set it on fire."

"I do," Tim answered, rubbing his arm. "And ow!"

Conner flicked his hand dismissively. "You're fine. And it's not that hard to ask someone."

"Yeah? When're you going to ask Cass?"

"I have a plan, Timbo."

The two started walking toward their lockers, weaving around kids and dodging teachers. "Right, well maybe I have a plan, too."

"No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't be this nervous. But that's good, you shouldn't have a plan for this, because you'd probably try to do something way over-the-top, trying to be all romantic and shit. Just _do it_ , Tim. Do I need to pull up Shia?"

Tim stopped at his locker and opened it, taking out the books he needed for his next two classes. "Please, no."

"I will if you don't get your ass in gear and ask him. I'll be forced to take drastic measures. Today after practice would work."

"Wait, practice?" Tim eyed him suspiciously. "What do you know?"

Conner laughed. "You're not as subtle as you think. At least, not to me. Or Stephanie, she totally knows. We talk about it all the time."

"Oh, fuck me." Tim slammed his locker door shut. With his face.

"No, thanks. I'll leave that to Jason."

"Shut up," Tim hissed, looking around frantically to check if anyone had heard. Luckily the crowd was thinning out, and no one was nearby. He glared at Conner, who just shrugged it off.

"Seriously though, just go up to him and ask." They went on down the hall, going to class.

"Why the hell would he say yes to me? Really, think about it for a minute. I don't even know if he likes boys, and if he does, he could go with literally anyone he wants. He's not going to jump at the chance to go to homecoming with some dork who, I'm pretty sure, he doesn't even know exists. I mean, we've had two conversations in the last year, and they were _not_ titillating. In one of them, I talked about _Dungeons and Dragons_. D &D, Conner!"

Conner grinned. "Just trust me, okay?"

They reached a T in the halls and Conner veered to the right while Tim turned left. "Sure, whatever."

"And Tim," he looked back over his shoulder, "He does know who you are."

* * *

Tim climbed up the steps to the bleachers and sat on the bottom bench. Looking out over the field, he pulled a notebook from his backpack. The band was on the far end marching drills while the track team ran laps around the edge. Closest to Tim the football team was well into afternoon practice. Coach Wayne blew his whistle and the boys gathered up around him. He was too far away to hear but from his position Tim had a great view. Of the field, of course.

Flipping open the notebook, he started reviewing the notes he had scribbled down in advanced chemistry, sometimes rewriting parts that were too hard to read while he still remembered what it was supposed to say. Occasionally (often) he glanced up to watch them play. He wasn't really a fan of football, but after two years of his best friend being on the team, Tim had learned everything about the game from Conner talking about it or Tim watching. He went to every game, even the away games, and usually waited on the bleachers during practice.

All in support of his friend, mind you. It had nothing at all to do with Jason Todd.

Jason, who was currently crouched at the line of scrimmage, pawing at the ground like a bull about to rush a matador. He was full of energy and when the ball snapped he unleashed it, rushing into the defensive player hard enough to bowl the kid over. It opened a gap in the line big enough for the quarterback, Dick Grayson, to run through. Tim almost cheered.

Jason offered a hand to the guy he'd knocked down, helping him stand up. Tim's little heart fluttered and he cursed the fact that Jason was not only beautiful and talented but a genuinely good person. If he'd just been hot, Tim could have gotten over it but no, Jason Todd was notoriously sweet and an all around good person. He protected people being bullied. He stood up for girls getting their skirts pulled up. He volunteered at a local clinic on the weekends. He was completely out of Tim's league.

Coach blew the whistle and the players regrouped, some of them clapping Jason on the back as they passed. They all got into position again and Tim gave up on trying to sort out his notes in favor of looking at Jason's ass in the air like the creepy stalker he was. This time Jason barrelled through the line and Dick threw him the ball, Jason catching it easily with a _whoop_ that carried all the way over to the bleachers.

Practice ran for another half hour, with Jason dominating the field. When they started to break up, some heading off to the locker room, Tim gathered his stuff and jumped down the steps, walking over to where Conner was talking to Coach Wayne.

Conner saw Tim coming toward him and waved, signalling he'd be ready to leave in a minute.

Tim waved back.

Jason walked in front of Conner at that very moment and looked up, seeing Tim waving, seemingly at him.

Jason smiled and waved at Tim.

Tim froze, hand stuck in the air like an idiot, face probably doing something horrible, judging by the way Jason's smile faltered.

"Fuck," he squeaked as Jason gave him a weird look and ran off to the locker room. _"Fuck."_

* * *

Tim was calculating just how much jail time he would be condemned to if he tossed Conner out of his car in the middle of the highway. Probably a lot. And the press would have a blast with that story, _Drake heir commits aggravated assault, also rumoured to be gay!_ Most importantly, Tim didn't have the patience or social skills to break in a new best friend. With that in mind, he just gripped the steering wheel tighter and waited for Conner to stop laughing. It took a while.

"Oh, my God, Tim!" He hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach. "I have never seen you make that face before! What _was_ that? And the way you just froze, literally mid-step. Whew, I can't get over it. Just beautiful."

Then again, maybe prison wouldn't be so bad.

"Well at least now he knows I'm alive. God, I wish he didn't know I'm alive."

"I told you, he already did."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter, because there's no chance he'd go out with me after that. Did you see him? He _ran away_ from me, Conner!"

"It wasn't that bad."

"It was! Any and all hope I ever had is completely pulverized." Tim pulled off the highway and into a residential area. He parked in Conner's driveway and hung his head in his heads.

"It's fine, Timbo. You want me to talk to him? I'd be perfectly happy to talk to him. You know me, I walk into a room: problem solved."

"Hell no. You walk into a room: problem compounded."

"I'm gonna do it."

"Seriously, don't." Tim lifted his head to give Conner his most threatening glare.

"Gotcha." Conner winked.

"I mean it."

"Okay."

Tim did not for a second believe that innocent look. "You're not talking to Jason for me."

"We'll see..."

"Get the hell out of my car, asshole."

Laughing, Conner opened the door and Tim helped him on his way out with his foot.

* * *

"Yo, Todd."

Setting his gear on the bench, Jason turned around. "What's up, Kent?"

"You should ask Tim Drake to homecoming."

"Um." Jason blinked, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

Conner leaned against the lockers, conveniently blocking Jason from reaching his. "Tim. You know Tim, kinda short, freaky smart, has a huge crush on you."

" _Me?_ No," Jason shook his head. "He doesn't like me."

"Are you kidding me?" Dick laughed as he walked out of the showers, towel wrapped around his waist. "Why do you think he hangs around during practice? Tim's been pining over you for what, a year?" He looked to Conner who nodded in affirmation.

"No, he hasn't. He's here for Kent."

"Nope. Not for a while, at least."

"He never tried to talk to me or anything. I mean, the guy looks at me like I stole his puppy. Did you see him yesterday? I waved at him and I thought he was going to kick my ass."

Grinning, Conner said, "That's how you know he likes you."

"But," Jason frowned. Tim couldn't like him. Tim was the smartest kid in school, and his family was rich, and he was… He was passionate, about the most random stuff. The one time Jason managed to strike up a conversation, Tim had ranted for ten minutes about Dungeons and Dragons. Jason thought it was cute as hell. Tim was funny and pretty and Jason really wanted to get to know him better but, as previously stated, Tim didn't seem like he was interested in getting to know Jason. "But he has this look..."

"That's just how Tim is," Dick told him. "What's it called?"

"Resting bitch face," Conner supplied.

Dick snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that's it. But he's not bitchy."

"No, he is a little. Mostly he's just painfully awkward, but once you get past that, he's awesome. The best. He's also an idiot about stuff like this, and he'll never get anywhere on his own, hence me telling you: ask him to the dance."

"Well, who said _I_ would _want_ to go to a dance with him?"

"Oh, that's cute." Dick raised an eyebrow. "You gonna try and pretend you don't play ten times better in practice when he's watching?"

"I- I don't, I mean, it doesn't matter to me..." His teammates just stared evenly at Jason while he shuffled around, avoiding their gazes. He rubbed the back of his neck and popped his fingers. He sighed. "Fine, maybe I play a _little_ better."

"Yeah."

"But still, we hardly know each other."

"That's the point of a date," Dick reached out and patted Jason's face. "To get to know each other better."

Conner leaned forward, crossing his arms to show off his muscles. "But not _too well_. Dude's my best friend. I like you and all, but I have to protect his innocence."

"His in- what kind of guy do you think I am?"

Conner shrugged. "The threatening is obligatory."

Eyeing them like the dangerous bastards the were, Jason asked, "You're _sure_ he wants to go with me?"

"He will say yes," Connor promised. "Well, actually he might not say anything, but that's just because his brain is frozen in awkward-mode, in which case you have to shake him out of it. Like literally, shake him a little." He demonstrated on Jason.

"Or kiss him," Dick said, biting back a grin.

"That would work." Conner nodded seriously.

"I swear, if you're just messing with me, I'm coming after you. Both of you." "

"We only want you to be happy," Dick cooed.

"Right..." Jason sighed. "So, how should I ask him?"

Conner smiled then, and Jason had the passing thought that he should run the fuck away from that smile.

* * *

Tim sat in the front row, cradling a hot dog and large coke in his lap. Around him kids were talking, flirting, taking selfies, not even watching the game, but Tim was. He always did. In front of him was a low brick wall and four feet below was the field. Where he sat was really close to the players' bench, only about twenty feet between them. Short enough of a distance for Tim to make out the unnerving smirk Conner had every time he looked back at Tim.

The past few days Conner had asked Tim repeatedly if he was coming to the game, which was a ridiculous question and Tim repeatedly told him so, along with, "Yes! Why do you keep asking?"

And Conner would shrug and say, "No reason," but Tim felt a reason hiding somewhere in those artfully virtuous eyes.

They were up by six, less than a minute left until halftime. Dick threw a beautiful spiral to Wally, the wide receiver, who _ran_ with it, all the way to the end zone for their third touchdown of the game. Bart made the extra point and the visiting team had time for one play before the clock ran down.

The players cleared the field and the band filled it, getting into position for their performance. Right on the edge of the sidelines was a raised podium for the conductor. However, rather than Mrs. Lance, Jason climbed up the short steps, still in his dirty uniform minus the helmet and Tim could see sweat trickling down his face. Picking up the microphone, Jason cleared his throat and the crowd hushed significantly.

"Hi," he said, and his voice rang out over the stadium. "I'm Jason."

A few people in the crowd called out, "Hi, Jason!" A few more _wooed_.

Jason smiled. "So I wanted to ask something to Tim. Tim Drake? Where are you?"

Tim froze. His mind _shut down_. The crowd was looking around, murmuring to each other. He heard someone nearby say, "Isn't that him?" Tim didn't confirm it because he _couldn't move_.

What was this? What the hell was happening?

"There he is," someone shouted and Tim's subconscious recognised Conner's voice. Suddenly everyone turned to look at him, including Jason.

"Tim?"

Hearing his name sound out so loudly, over so much space, in front of so many people, was surreal.

"Will you go to homecoming with me?"

The collective gasp from the crowd was fascinating, and Tim would replay that moment in his mind later.

"Tim?"

When he was able to think again.

"Um…" Jason laughed nervously and some primal part of Tim's mind yelled at him for _embarrassing Jason_. Jason climbed down and walked over to the wall Tim sat behind. He was close now, so close. Leaning over the top of the wall, Jason waved his hand in front of Tim's face. A couple people laughed. "Hey, Tim? You okay?"

No. He really wasn't.

"Tim." Jason reached out and shook him slightly, how Conner usually did but more gentle.

"What the fuck?" And- no. No, those were _not_ the words he'd wanted to say. "No."

 _Dammit, Timmy, get your shit together._

The confusion on Jason's face was distressing, more so when it shifted into hurt. "Oh..."

People started talking louder now and Tim heard phrases like, _poor guy_ , and _that's cold_.

Jason started to pull away but _thank fuck_ Tim's hand snapped out to hold him back.

"Tim?"

 _"Yes!"_

"...What?"

"Yes, I'll go with you."

Jason smiled, wide and bright, making Tim's heart do some stupid shit. Conner cheered and soon the rest of the team joined in, along with the mass of people, clapping and whistling. Jason leaned in slowly and planted a soft (too soft) kiss on Tim's cheek, and Tim smiled too.


End file.
